Generators Aren't The Only Way To Get Heat
by ninjakat405
Summary: An early snowstorm has struck New England and poor America is stuck in the middle of it. In search of warmth, he finds his way into England's house, and other places as well. Multi-chapter. T for future chapters.
1. Snowstorm

**A/N: **It's another Hetalia fanfic guys! So, we had a giant snowstorm here in New England, and it was crazy. Everyone says that it worse than the hurricane. We got over 10 inches and it was the really heavy stuff. Trees snapped in half and branched littered the road, and power lines are everywhere. Mine was gone for only two days, but some's will be out for a week or more.

So what do I do with it? I make a story out of it! And because I'm mean, I'll make America go through it all. So, this is basically everything that I went through on the first day, except with Alfred, Arthur, fluffiness and yoai. And I was playing Zelda, and I was looking for a chainsaw, not a generator. Enjoy the early winter!

**I do not own Hetalia or anything in this fanfiction.**

* * *

><p>He was playing one of his many videogames in his New England home when the power went out.<p>

He screamed when the television clicked off and the screen flashed black. "Noooooooooooo!" America wailed "That was the newest Call of Duty: Modern Warfare; it hasn't even been allowed to screen in commercials yet and I didn't saaaaavvvvveeeeeee!" He crawled to the Playstation and cradled the counsel, trying to encourage it back to life.

His attention was taken off the electronic when the lights flickered. America glanced up at the dimming lamp. When he blinked, there was no light at all.

"Ah…. Toni? D-did you forget to send out the electric bill this month?" America called out to the blackness. There was no answer. He hugged the controller to his chest as he squinted about the room, willing his eyes to adjust.

Where had he left the flashlights? he wondered. He didn't trust himself with matches in the pitch black. His shades were drawn, so he had no clue as to what the weather was like outside and, since the power was gone, no news station to tell him either.

The wind howled outside the house and there was a thump from the back yard.

America jumped. "OhmyGod, there's a ghost doing this and it wants to eat my beautiful face so I'll never see the light of day again but I think the sun is really pretty and I want to see it again oh please Mr. Ghost don't kill me – Tony hold meeeeee!"

When nothing moved (or so he could see), he dared to climb to his feet and peek out the front window. He had to check his calendar to make sure he wasn't crazy.

"I-it's… snow…. In October", he whispered to himself. "I'll have to ask Tony if he's been playing with the weather again."

America watched the frozen flakes float to the leaf-ridden ground until he could come to terms that it really was snow outside. And he had no electricity. It had to be cold to snow. Snow made it even colder. No electricity meant no heat, and no heat equaled bad. Very bad. It also meant no television, no computer, no videogames – he'd kill for just the lamp to be on so he could even read! He was going to be extremely bored! And the way the snow was piling up… He chewed his bottom lip. It seemed the power would be gone for awhile.

America grabbed a coat and his car keys as he headed out the door. He needed to find a generator.

On second thought, he took another coat.

"Damn", America hissed under his breath as he faced yet another closed department store. Or maybe it didn't have power either. Either way, he was still cold and he was getting hungry. Every fast food place had lines down the street and people spilled out their doors as they waited to order inside. Gas stations were even worse. Cops had to direct traffic and two fights had already broken out over oil. America had given up idling in line to fill up his car and had opted to walk. He regretted that decision now.

With numb hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders hunched against the onslaught of frozen wind, he trudged down the street looking for another store. He dodged falling trees and stepped carefully around fallen telephone poles and down power wires. He watched the sky warily for raining tree limbs. Just because he couldn't die from something as simple as broken bones or electrocution like other humans, he didn't want a cracked skull or to smell like charred person for a week.

His breath puffed in a giant cloud of white as he let out a sigh of relief. A Sears was open: lights were on and people scurried in and out of the building. America stepped through the entrance and sighed again in happiness as warmth flooded through him. He wiggled his fingers to get some feeling back into them.

Although it was loud and dim in the store, and the line isles long, he didn't mind the wait. He was warm here.

"Let me guess; you're looking for a generator", the saleswoman asked at the costumer service desk. America opened his mouth but the redhead cut him off. "We're sold out. Have been since noon."

"Uh…were can I-"

"Find one?" She flipped through a department list and sighed wearily. "You can't. Sears, Lowe's, Home Depot, even the mom and pop stores are out. The closest place that we know of is in New York."

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Alright, thanks." He grabbed a handful of flashlights, blankets, and an armload or batteries before heading home.

* * *

><p>It was day two if the snowstorm. The clouds had finally broken sometime in the wee hours of the night, and the world was covered in a fresh blanket of pure, untarnished white. The frozen earth glowed in the light of the sunrise, and trees encased in ice sparkled along the roads. Despite the fallen tree limbs and wires that snaked unseen under the snow, one could have called that morning beautiful.<p>

Except America.

"D-d-damnable snow", he stammered under layers of thick blankets as he stared out the window. "D-damn the w-winter and the c-c-cold." It was at least fifty degrees in the house and the power still hadn't returned. He had survived the night by playing games on his brand new iPad and bundled up with a hat, gloves, and three sweatshirts. On the car radio, the news had stated that power could be out for a week or more in most areas, and that cellphone towers were down so service could be weak, if it exsisted at all.

So it came as a huge surprise when his his pants vibrated as his cellphone went off.

"Y-yeah?" America answered.

"Where on the bloody Earth have you been?" a very angry-sounding Englishman asked. "I've called your house all through the night and your bleeding cell had been coming and going."

"A s-snowstorm t-t-took out the power-"

"I know that!" England snapped. "It's been on the news and Canada warned me about it."

"Y-yeah..."

"Is everything alright over there?"

The Brit's sudden change in attitude surprised America. He sounded almost... worried. He shook his head. It must have been the cold messing with his mind.

"I know it can get pretty bad in the winters; you're not too cold are you?" England went on. "Do you... do you want to come over? Until the electricity comes back, of course."

America's eyebrows rose. Hell yes he wanted to go over - heat and cable, baby! - but he didn't want to sound desperate. And the situation was just...weird. England and him never really came to each other houses unless it was to hand over paperwork or return something the other had forgotten at a meeting. In fact, their bosses hand't let them go over each other's places for anything but that, and not without supervision. Not after the time they had posted a video of the getting it on on the internet after their fifth year anniversary at a bar. After that, England had called their relationship off, but America had never agreed to that. He could see England's desire in his emerald green eyes too, no mater what the Brit said.

"Well?"

"Ah, yeah! Let me just get some stuff together..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Bwahaha! Cliffhanger! Next chapter is lemon. Reviews will fuel my heater, so make my house warm! (wow that was horrible...sorry guys XD)


	2. Snowballing

**A/N: **Ugh, sorry it took so long. I know I said this would be up last week, but life got in the way. A lot. Getting ready for college, normal high school stuff, and just family drama made me so busy that I didn't have time to eat. But, I have a mini-break and I'm using every second of it! So I have the next chapter!

* * *

><p>America glared at the damp, dull world outside the taxi. The drops hit its windows with an audible pounding and were forced along the glass from the speed in which he pushed the driver of the car down the busy street. His blue eyes watched the droplets slide across the smooth surface like snakes.<p>

Why did it always have to rain here?

"Sir?" The taxi driver looked back through his rearview mirror at the back seat where the blonde country sat huddled in a sweatshirt, jacket, and overly large pair of sweatpants.

"Ah, right". America checked the crossroad they were at, paused by the directions of a stop sign. They had just passed Buckingham Palace. "Take a left." He breathed on his hands. "And can you turn up the heat? It's freaking freezing", he mumbled.

The driver turned and gave his customer a queer look. The front windows were already fogging up from the heat inside the car, but flicked the vehicle's heat on with a shrug. It wasn't his money.

America watched England's house crest over a low hill with anticipation. How long had it been since they'd seen each other outside of work-related meetings? It had to have been over a few months. A few months too long, in America's opinion. That's why, right after England had hung up, America had grabbed a bottle of lube and squeezed in a suitcase already hurriedly stuffed s\full of clothes (and, of course, his Playstation) and caught the first flight to the United Kingdom that he could find.

Which was way more complicated that he had first thought. He originally decided that, with all of the cancellations up north, he'd just use his own jet, but even that wasn't allowed to take off because of the slippery runways and horrible visibility caused by the snow. Another reason to hate winter.

After much bribing (not whining, because whining wasn't a hero would do, of course!) and many calls to England, America finally found a plane and landed…

In the rain.

Seriously. Why did it have to rain all the time? Even during the summers! Had he come all this way, from one type of precipitation just to hang out in another? England had promised him warmth, television, and food (or, that's what he assumed England meant when he invited him over)! Not more cold and a chance of flooding…

America handed the driver a handful of bills and made a mad dash towards the front door of England's house in an attempt to escape the onslaught of rain. He rang the doorbell non-stop until it was answered, shivering.

England narrowed his eyes at the shivering form. He _tsk_ed the layers of clothing covering the other. "Is all of this really necessary, America? It's only 10ºC, even if it is raining".

"And that's like, what, 50ºF, right?" America asked.

England rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder you know your temperature. Why do you insist on using the Standard System for everything? Everyone else uses the Metric System, and it's much easier."

"Because I'm not like everyone else. I'm a hero, and all hero's use the standard thingy! Are we going to fight over temperature, or are you going to let me in? It's cooolllldd."

"It's not cold!" England said, but, with a huff, he stepped aside to allow America entrance.

"Half of me is under 8 inches of snow. I'm cold."

"Oh, belt up, it's just a few states – what the devil, your hands are freezing!" England had one hand on America's jacket, the other on America's arm as he pulled him inside, when his own hand made contact with the icy chill that was New England's earliest winter storm.

America breathed on his hands again but shot the older nation a smug look over the rim of his glasses. "I told you."

England muttered something about "just a bloody chill wind' as he hung the rain splattered coat on a coat rack behind the door. He clapped his hands and faced America again. "A cup of tea will warm your hands up", he said, already striding to the kitchen.

America made a face and faked a gag. "Tea is gross. I want hot chocolate." After a moment's thought, he added, "With marshmallows!"

"I'm not your mother, git!" America heard a clank of cups and the opening and closing of cabinet doors. There was an occasional incoherent mumble mixed in the chorus. "You should be lucky that I still have some hot chocolate."

America smiled and a shout of excitement rang through his mind as he jumped onto the living room couch, sprawling across its cushions. He stretched, loving the warmth of the house.

And the possibilities of cable. What shows had he missed since the power failed? There was a giant football on tomorrow! How could he not watch it? Maybe, if he got on England's good side tonight, or gave him totally awesome sex (because really, who wouldn't want someone as awesome as him in their bed?), he'd let America stay the next day too. He reached for the remote, fingers just brushing the edge of the electronic, when a burning cup was smashed on his hand.

"Hey!" America cried, pulling his hand to his chest and sucking on the red skin on the back of his hand. "That was hot."

"First your fingers are too cold, and then they're too hot", England scoffed, agitated. "But either way, they aren't touching the telly."

"But why?" the younger complained. "You said I could use your electricity!"

"I said I would let you stay over until yours came back, git!" He handed America his hot chocolate and settled in a chair opposite the couch. He dropped his emerald eyes to watch the tea steaming in his own cup. He worried his bottom lip. When he spoke again, his voice was smaller, softer. "We haven't been able to spend time together, alone, for how many months now? I thought… thought that, we could make this time together like the old days." He glanced up and caught the younger man's confused expression.

"You were the one that decided to end us."

"It wasn't me! My government said it would be a good idea, to preserve my image and my dignity. It wasn't my bloody decision."

America watched England's innocent face, his nervousness, and could already feel himself harden at the sight of the self-conscious man.

Putting his mug aside, he stood up and took England's hand. "I'm sure your bed will be much warmer than hot chocolate or tea."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Did I say there was going to be smut in this one? I guess I kind of lied...I'm so sorry I've been lying so much DX

I'll try to fix that, alright? So, next chapter will most defiantly be lemon and stuff. Yeah...Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Snow Melt

**A/N: **Holy flying cheese mongers; I'M SO SORRY EVERYONE! I haven't been in the mood and I haven't really felt like doing this, but I didn't expect for this to take SO LONG! I hop you'll forgive me...I'm sorry...hopefully the tons of (poorly written) smut will make up for it...

Thank you teaandcharcolforbreakfast for the motivation and advice.

I hate myself...I'm sorry...I tried my best with Tsundere!England. I hope it's okay...I'm going to go dig myself a hole and come out in a year or so.

* * *

><p>"N-ngh", England moaned, back arching as America thrusted into him, over and over, harder and harder. "I-I'm going to-"<p>

"I know", America panted. "Can't hold out…much longer anyway." He threw his head back and groaned deep in his throat as England clenched, tight, around him. "Plus, you got your 'gasm face on."

"I-I do not have a-a, ngh, 'orgasm' face- _America_", the older cried, fingers clamping onto America's shoulders and nails digging in deep into the soft flesh as white covered their chests.

America came moments later, filling England to the brink with his seed and thrusting a few more times, riding out his orgasm, before pulling out and collapsing next to him in the giant bed. He stared into gorgeous green eyes, clouded with a sated bliss. England's normally pale face was flushed and shiny with a thin film of sweat and mused hair was even more tousled.

America wrapped his arms around England, the short puffs of breath from the other a\warming his shoulder, and pulled him close, enjoying the feeling of having the man in his arms. And the warmth. That was a plus.

He led a trail of light kisses down England's neck.

"You know, I'm still feeling a little cold", America said, walking his fingers down England's stomach. The skin was soft and giving, but he could feel the muscles hiding just below the surface.

England pushed him off. "Bloody hell, that was – what was it now? – round two already?"

"Your old man body not up to it", America teased.

"How many times must I inform you that I am not nearly as old as you like to believe."

"Then why won't you go again?"

"Are you whining?" America's pout hardened into a frown. "I refuse to go another round with you because even we have limits and I have work tomorrow. And-" His fairly large eyebrows knotted together as glowered when America opened his mouth. He waited until the younger closed it and swallowed his protests. "-And"

"And I'm still cold", America managed to squeeze in. He made a show of huddling under the sheets and snuggling against England.

England's huff was cut short when he felt something too close to Big Ben, but he dismissed it as the git's shuffling.

"That silly little dusting you called snow should be over by now."

"It's not! And I would know!" He pressed a hand to the older's cheek until England did eventually confess it was still as cold as his freezer and would he please remove it _thank you very much._

"So?" America looked up with big blue eyes.

"You can stay the night."

"And?"

"And no more sex- God save the Queen what is that?" Now he was _sure _there was something was touching his nether regions and only one glance at the lad's face told him what it was. His smile was greedy, his eyes sparkling with lust he so shamelessly didn't bother to hide. And a hand most definitely not where England wanted it to be.

"Will you please just lit this go", the Brit asked in exasperation. "I told you no, so leave it alone!"

"That's not what _he_ says." America chuckled as he continued to bring England's limp member back to life. His motivation only increased when a moan escaped England's lips when it was fully erect.

A hand gripped America's wrist firmly as he tried to climb up on his knees. England looked at him with a steely gaze.

"If we are going to do this again, we will be doing it my way." America let out a startled yelp as England flipped their positions.

"N-not cool, man", he protested as England leaned down and nibbled the shell of his ear. A shiver went down his spine, but he couldn't tell is it was out of apprehension or excitement.

"Oh, don't worry love", England purred, trailing a finger down America's stomach. He smirked as the blond under him squirmed, impatient and – from the condition of his member – horny for more.

And England couldn't have that. America had barged into _his_ house, eaten _his _food, taken up _his_ bed. It was like a rent of some kind. And England was going to make sure he got his pay.

"Are these really necessary?" America yanked against the handcuffs keeping his arms pinned to the bed. He winced as the metal links rattled against each other and as the cuffs chaffed his wrists. "I mean, I know you're a dirty old man and all, but seriously? Handcuffs?"

"You couldn't keep your hands to yourself before. This should teach you something."

"You're twisted!"

England _tsk_ed and leaned over for a rough kiss, making sure to stay clear of his partner's obvious erection. America's whine of displeasure was cut off as England covered his mouth with his own, immediately seeking entrance.

America tried his best to keep England's tongue at bay, his lips turning into a frown. That is, until England's hands found their way to his chest.

America's back arched as thin fingers spread along his stomach, the need for touch making any contact ignite pleasure.

England deepened the kiss, his own frown tugging at his mouth as America's resolve continued. He pinched a nipple, twisting and America moaned. England shoved his tongue into America's mouth and another battle waged in the moist cavern.

America's hips bucked, desperate for attention to his erection, and twisted his arms in frustration.

England pulled back, licking at a line of saliva trailing from his bottom lip, admiring his work. America was flushed already, panting, his legs quivering as he struggled to keep his hips down.

He felt his hard member twitch at the sight.

America twisted his arms again, threatening to pop his shoulder. "C'mon, man! T-this isn't fair! You're not this mean! J-just do something already!"

"Oh, I'll do something alright."

He leaned over and attacked America' neck, biting and sucking, encouraged by the mewls and gasps spilling out of the boy's mouth. He left a trail of bite marks along the collarbone and licked a path the America's neglected nipple. He sucked, twirling his tongue around the bud as America's cried of "Y-yes, England", and "f-fuck me already!"

By the time England has reached America's bellybutton, his face was red, hair tousled. His breath came in hard gasps and his skin was covered in a shiny coat of sweat.

He looked beautiful.

"Are you warm now", England teased.

"Florida's pretty fucking freezing right now", America ground out.

England smirked and ran his tongue along the length of America's member. He could have come at the cry of pleasure that was ripped from the American's throat. Instead, he took him in his mouth, creating a pattern of sucks and hums.

America threw his head back and moaned deep in his throat. He was stars when England dipped his tongue into the slit. It was no surprise to him that, in mere minutes, he felt the heat explode on his stomach.

He almost cried when England grabbed the base of his length, preventing his climax.

"W-what the fuck?" He felt tears prick at his eyes,

England's mouth left him with a wet _pop_. "You'll come when I'm finished with you."

"Are you finished now?"

England rolled his eyes and threw America's legs over his shoulders. He placed two fingers in his mouth, coating them with saliva before sticking one in the boy's entrance with no preamble.

America moaned, the desperate need for release overpowering pain fifty times over.

"Be lucky that I'm even inclined to prepare you. I have half to mind to fuck you dry."

"Then do it."

England raised an eyebrow, scissoring his fingers one last time before removing the digit. America whined at the loss before his spine arched when England entered him.

He hissed at the pain shooting through him. The pain of the large member inside, the pain of his stopped climax, the pain of his neglected length.

And then England moved.

There was no warning. One moment England was adjusting himself, and the next, he was ramming into the America like there was no tomorrow.

And oh dear Lord it was like a dam breaking.

The cries of pleasure, the screams of England's name, poured from his lips like a flood. His hips sloppily met each thrust at the force of his pleasure and, after only a few thrusts, he came.

He was just floating down from his high when England filled him.

"Is your bleeding snowstorm over with", the Brit asked moodily, draping an arm over America's white splattered stomach. America grinned. "My God, if you say no, I will hit you."

His grin faded and he paled. "N-no, it's over."

"Bloody hell." England released a breath and closed his eyes.

"Hey, um, England? Can you take the cuffs off now?" He looked down at the older man expectantly. "England? Don't tell me you're asleep! England!"


End file.
